For three days, Hema experienced a rare peace.Zayden hadn’t forced himself on her.He hadn’t touched her.He hadn’t even come to her room at night, which was the most unusual part.Instead, he made everything comfortable for her.Every morning, a lavish breakfast was delivered to her room—though she barely ate it. A sophisticated BarcaLounger had appeared in her room, one of the finest recliners money could buy. But she refused to sit in it.She didn’t want to be tricked into believing this was kindness.Even when he got her a warming pad to ease her discomfort, she insisted on using it herself.It was like he was trying to pacify her.But she knew better.This wasn’t a change of heart.It was the calm before the storm.And she would never let herself forget that.At night, she lay awake, staring at the ceiling, feeling relief that the monster beside her had chosen to stay away. But the relief was accompanied by something else—something that had been gnawing at her ever since she was
The skies over Mumbai rumbled ominously as dark clouds rolled in, casting a shadow over the bustling city. The streets were chaotic yet alive, with honking cars, street vendors shouting their wares, and umbrellas bobbing up and down in a sea of humanity. The first drops of rain began to fall, tentative at first, before the heavens opened in a relentless downpour.Hema Kapoor a young engineer darted through the crowded street, clutching a worn leather folder to her chest as if her life depended on it. Her pale peach salwar kameez was soaked, the soft fabric clinging to her slender figure, but she paid no mind. Her long black hair, loosely braided, was already dripping, and the rainwater trailed down her delicate face. Her skin, glowing with a golden hue, was flawless, as if kissed by the sun. Her almond-shaped eyes, outlined with eyeliner, held a quiet strength, though the panic in them was hard to miss.“Excuse me!” she called out, her voice soft but urgent, almost drowned out by the
The hum of the central air conditioning was the only sound in the otherwise silent building of ZN Corporations, Mumbai. A handful of employees moved briskly through the corridors, their movements precise, almost mechanical, as though the very presence of the building demanded perfection.And then, the world seemed to still.A sleek black limousine rolled up to the front of the office building, glistening under the sunlight. The door opened, and a polished black Oxford shoe emerged, followed by a tall, imposing figure. Chris Zayden , the enigmatic CEO of ZN Corporations, stepped out of the car.Dressed in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, Zayden exuded power with every step he took. His broad shoulders, sharp jawline, and piercing gray eyes made him look more like a monarch than a businessman. His posture was upright, his every movement calculated and deliberate. There was no need for words; his aura commanded silence and respect.The staff froze. Some lowered their heads instinctive
The orange hues of the setting sun cast a warm glow over the modest but neatly maintained apartment complex where Hema lived. Located a little away from the city’s bustling heart, the area was quiet and filled with the sounds of everyday life—a barking dog, children playing in the distance, and the occasional chime of a bicycle bell. It was the perfect haven for someone like Hema, who valued simplicity and peace.As she walked through the narrow alley that led to her apartment, her heart raced with excitement. The crisp confirmation message on her phone that she had been hired at ZN Corporations felt surreal. She couldn’t stop glancing at it, the words “Welcome to ZN Corporations” lighting up her entire being.Hema adjusted her bag over her shoulder, her steps quick and lively despite the long day. The slight ache in her feet from walking in heels all day didn’t matter anymore. She paused briefly at the entrance of the three-story apartment building, her eyes automatically drifting to
The day started on a tense note at ZN Corporations. Word had spread quickly in the company’s internal chat groups—Chris Zayden, the enigmatic and strict CEO, had arrived unusually early. Employees scrambled to make it to their desks on time, some hurrying through the doors, others quickly arranging their desks to appear busy.Chris, however, had no interest in the frantic activity of his employees. He sat in his expansive office, leaning back in his chair, his sharp blue eyes fixed on the live CCTV feed from the lobby. His focus was not on the bustling workers but on one person—Hema Kapoor.He had been waiting, and as the minutes ticked by, his irritation grew. Half an hour late. For someone as punctual and controlled as Chris, it was a small but significant annoyance. He clenched his jaw as he finally saw her walking into the building. She was late, and worse—she was walking alongside another male employee, laughing casually.His grip on the edge of his desk tightened. “Who is he?” h
Chris Zayden had always been a man of focus. His sharp mind, calculated decisions, and unmatched charm made him a legend in the corporate world. Yet, over the past few weeks, his unwavering concentration had been fractured by something—or rather, someone.Hema.She wasn’t like the women Chris was used to. Hema was modest, quiet, and radiated a natural grace that didn’t demand attention but effortlessly captured it. She wasn’t clad in designer gowns or towering heels like the socialites who hovered around him. Her presence was subtle, understated, and completely irresistible.Chris found himself gravitating towards her every chance he got. Her black kurta—a simple yet elegantly embroidered outfit—floated gracefully as she walked, each movement soft yet deliberate. Her hair, dark and glossy, curled naturally around her face, catching the light and framing her radiant smile. But it wasn’t just her beauty that consumed him. It was her energy—the way she laughed with her trainees, the easy
Chris Zayden stood by the large glass windows of his penthouse office, sipping his coffee. He was restless. Chris decided to do something he rarely did—visit the departments personally. He wanted to see how she was doing , but he justified it to himself as a random check on the development block. Dressed impeccably in a dark grey tailored suit, his hair slicked back neatly, Chris exuded authority as he walked through the corridors. His posture was upright, his long strides confident and purposeful. The sound of his polished black shoes echoed, announcing his presence. Employees froze or straightened in their chairs as he passed, their expressions turning tense and alert. As he entered the development block, the air seemed heavier. The employees were all alert, stealing glances at him while pretending to work. His presence always had this effect, like a storm cloud entering a calm sky. At the far end of the room, Chris noticed a heated argument. Mr. Kumar, the department leader, wa
It was 7 PM, and the office was almost empty. The other departments had long since packed up for the day, leaving the development block eerily quiet. The only sound was the steady clatter of Hema’s fingers on the keyboard as she worked tirelessly. Her face was focused, her posture rigid as she leaned slightly toward the monitor, typing with determination.Arvind, who had returned to check on her, stood beside her desk, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers. “Hema, it’s getting late. Let me wait for you. I’ll drop you home.”Hema stopped typing briefly, her hands resting on the desk as she looked up at him. Her expression was calm but firm. “Arvind, I appreciate it, but I’m fine. You should go home. Your family must be waiting.”Arvind frowned, his posture slumping slightly as he leaned one hand on the back of her chair. “You know I don’t mind waiting. You’re pushing yourself too much.”Hema smiled faintly, her tired eyes softening. “I’ll manage, Arvind. Please, just go. I
For three days, Hema experienced a rare peace.Zayden hadn’t forced himself on her.He hadn’t touched her.He hadn’t even come to her room at night, which was the most unusual part.Instead, he made everything comfortable for her.Every morning, a lavish breakfast was delivered to her room—though she barely ate it. A sophisticated BarcaLounger had appeared in her room, one of the finest recliners money could buy. But she refused to sit in it.She didn’t want to be tricked into believing this was kindness.Even when he got her a warming pad to ease her discomfort, she insisted on using it herself.It was like he was trying to pacify her.But she knew better.This wasn’t a change of heart.It was the calm before the storm.And she would never let herself forget that.At night, she lay awake, staring at the ceiling, feeling relief that the monster beside her had chosen to stay away. But the relief was accompanied by something else—something that had been gnawing at her ever since she was
Hema barely reacted when Zayden turned the key and pulled the heavy door open.The lock clicked open—a sound that should’ve brought her relief. But she knew better. Zayden never did anything without a reason.He stood there, watching her with unreadable eyes, his tall frame leaning against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world.She waited for him to speak, to issue another one of his smug, condescending commands. But he didn’t.Hema didn’t ask why he was suddenly setting her free. There was no point. Speaking to him was like speaking to fire—no matter how much sense you made, you’d only end up burned.Instead, she walked past him, silent and deliberate.But she barely made it two steps before his hand closed around her wrist.Hema stiffened.His grip wasn’t painful, but it was firm—possessive, in the way that only Zayden knew how to be.“Ignoring me now, sweetheart?” His voice was calm, laced with amusement. But there was something sharper underneath it, something danger
The afternoon sun hung lazily over Zayden’s mansion, casting a golden glow across the sprawling estate. The place was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that carried danger within its folds. Zayden had made sure of that—his security was tighter than ever, and his movements had become calculated.For few days now, he had barely stepped out of his home, which had raised suspicions in the underworld. His enemies wondered if he was plotting something. His allies whispered about his uncharacteristic retreat. But Mia—she knew better.Something was keeping him here.Or rather, someone.And today, she intended to find out who.⸻Hema sat in the lush garden of the mansion, absorbed in a book. The gentle rustling of leaves, the warm afternoon breeze, and the rare moment of peace made her feel almost normal. Almost.But she should have known—peace was an illusion in Zayden’s world.The moment she heard heavy footsteps approaching from behind, her body tensed. Before she could react, a strong hand
The cold was biting, unforgiving.As soon as they landed, a harsh gust of wind sent a shiver through Hema’s body. She wrapped her arms around herself, her breath turning into white mist.Zayden, who stepped out right behind her, noticed immediately. Without a word, he slipped off his heavy black coat and draped it over her shoulders.Hema flinched, stiffening under his touch. She turned her head slightly, her eyes narrowed.“What is this?” she muttered, gripping the edges of the coat.Zayden’s expression was unreadable, but his voice was firm. “You’re cold.”Hema scoffed, shoving his hand off her. “Since when do you care?”Zayden didn’t answer. He simply grabbed her wrist, his grip firm but not painful, and started leading her forward.“Let’s go,” he said.“Go where?” she snapped, resisting.“Shopping.”Hema frowned. “I don’t want—”But Zayden didn’t wait for her to finish. He pulled her along effortlessly, forcing her into the nearest luxury shopping mall.A Hollow TripInside, the c
The morning sun barely peeked through the heavy curtains when Hema stirred awake. The familiar suffocating warmth wrapped around her—the same grip that had held her captive throughout the night.Zayden.His arm was locked around her waist, his body pressing into hers possessively, as if even in his sleep, he knew she was always trying to escape.Hema let out a shaky breath. She tried to wriggle out of his grip, but it only tightened, his subconscious refusing to let her go.He never leaves.Unlike before, when he had long days at work, now he remained in the mansion, constantly watching her. Always present.Her gaze flickered to the VFX headset resting near her pillow. Carefully, she reached out and hugged it close to her chest, as if clinging to the last piece of her sanity.But even as she found comfort in the illusion of her brother’s presence, the cruel truth gnawed at her mind—Both Arvind and her brother had died because of him.Her eyes snapped back to Zayden’s peaceful, sleepi
The sun hung high in the sky, casting golden streaks of light through the large windows of the mansion. It was past midday, and the estate was quiet—too quiet. Zayden sat in his office, his fingers loosely gripping a glass of whiskey while his phone rested against his ear.Mark’s voice came through the other end, firm and serious. “We’ve taken care of it. They won’t reach her.”Zayden exhaled, rolling the glass in his palm. “Make sure of it, Mark. I don’t want any mistakes.”Mark nodded from the other end. “Understood, boss.”With that, the call ended.Zayden leaned back in his chair, his jaw tightening. He had too many enemies, too many people who would love to rip Hema away from him. He wasn’t going to let that happen. She was his. No one could take her.A moment later, he stood, his eyes scanning the room. Where was she? He hadn’t seen her since their argument. His gaze landed on the untouched glass of fresh juice on his desk.With a sigh, he picked it up and left the office, searc
Zayden walked through the hallways of his mansion, his mind still clouded with irritation from the morning’s events. He was still fuming over Hema’s defiance—how she dared to challenge him, how she had tried to protect that useless servant.She will learn soon enough.But as he turned a corner, he stopped in his tracks.There, standing in the living area, was the same middle-aged servant he had fired. She was quietly folding linens, her posture tense, as if afraid she’d be discovered.His eyes darkened instantly.“You,” his voice boomed, making her flinch. “What the hell are you still doing here?”The woman gasped, quickly lowering her head. “Sir, I—”“You were fired.” Zayden’s voice was cold, filled with dangerous authority. “Did you not understand my orders?”The woman trembled, unable to form words.Before he could lash out further, another voice cut through the tension.“I hired her back.”Zayden turned sharply, his gaze locking onto Hema as she stepped forward, her expression fir
Hema descended the grand staircase, the soft fabric of her T-shirt brushing against her skin. The scent of fresh roses and burning sandalwood filled the air, but she barely noticed. Her mind was spinning, her heart pounding with unease.Her damp hair clung to her back, the strands dripping cold water onto the silk. She hadn’t bothered drying it—what was the point? Her body still ached, and her mind felt even more exhausted.Zayden, still lounging in bed, had noticed. He had watched her leave with her hair wet, a small smirk tugging at his lips. She must be too distracted to care, he thought. But he knew why. Soon, she’d learn there was no running from what he had planned for them.Hema wandered down the long hallway, pausing in front of an unfamiliar door. Something about it felt… different. It was slightly ajar, and inside, she could hear the faint sound of someone cleaning.Curious, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.Her breath caught.It was a baby’s room.The walls were
The morning sun crept through the heavy curtains of Zayden’s bedroom, casting soft golden light over the tangled sheets and the two bodies entwined in them. Hema lay still, her body aching, exhaustion pulling her deeper into slumber. She couldn’t move—partly because of the soreness and partly because Zayden’s strong arms were wrapped around her, holding her tightly even in his sleep.She felt his slow, steady breaths against the crook of her neck, his warmth surrounding her like a cage. The weight of the night before lingered on her skin, a cruel reminder of the war she was trapped in. Her fingers curled into the blanket as she swallowed the lump in her throat.Hema shifted slightly, trying to ease out of his grasp. But as soon as she moved, his grip tightened, his arm pulling her flush against his chest.A deep, satisfied hum rumbled from his throat. “Where do you think you’re going?” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep, a smirk playing on his lips.Hema stiffened. She had to get